


Fairytales

by GideonGraystairs



Series: 24 Fics In 24 Days Challenge [17]
Category: Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Pirates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 02:51:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5691856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GideonGraystairs/pseuds/GideonGraystairs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She shouldn't have been afraid, though, because not a moment later a head of shimmering silver hair made its way through the hatch, the young man attached dropping firmly onto the water-soaked floor with a slosh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fairytales

The hatch creaked as it was pulled open, light from above spilling over Tessa’s mangled dress and dirt-coated skin.  The stairs groaned just as loudly when heavy boots descended on them, thumping harshly against the thick wooden planks.  She curled away from whoever it was, retreating as far into the corner of her own little prison as possible.

She shouldn’t have been afraid, though, because not a moment later a head of shimmering silver hair made its way through the hatch, the young man attached dropping firmly onto the water-soaked floor with a slosh.  He glanced up and around the small room for a moment, no doubt gathering his bearings as well as searching her out in the dissonant light of the lower deck she was being kept on. Spotting her, a warm smile graced his gentle features and he splashed softly through the water covering the wooden floor over to where she remained curled in on herself.

Jem was by far the kindest of Tessa’s captors.  He was nothing like the pirates she had been brought up hearing about in fancy tales and magnificent stories weaved after dark by light of the extravagant bonfire that burned every night down in the center of the small village she’d grown up in.  He had no gnarly scars twisting his face into that of a demon, though there were small silver licks along his arms and tender hands.  He wore no eyepatch, brilliant grey eyes so much brighter and livelier than her own revealed openly for the world to see, and had no wooden leg to clank against the floorboards in a foreboding signal of his approaching presence.  He was neither cruel nor violent and rarely carried the cutlass she had first seen him with, being far too gentle-tempered to even consider taking such drastic measures to defend himself when not pillaging an enemy ship.

There was that, she thought absently. For while Jem might be far kinder than she had thought any pirate could, he  _ was  _ a pirate still and had had a part to play in the plundering and pillaging that so often took place on the high seas of the caribbean.  He had aided in her capture, too, and the raiding of her own port-bound vessel that had never made it to it’s intended destination: the fine city of London.

And yet, as Tessa watched him reach to unscrew the flask of water from his belt and pull the bread from his sack to offer to her, she found that she could bear no grudge against him for his actions many days past.  He had shown her such kindness in the time she’d been here, never failing to bring her food and check over her shivering body for any kind of wound or illness gathered from the hygienically-lacking ship.  He would even go so far as to offer her the jacket he always wore to fend off against the bitter winds drafting off the seas, most days. In fact, she’d say he was by far the greatest gentleman she’d ever met.

“Are you cold?” he asked her then, drawing her out of her musings as he kneeled down before her, watching as she gulped eagerly at the water and tore gargantuan pieces off the piece of bread he’d managed to weasel out of the kitchens for her.  His eyes shone brilliantly in the light of the day spilling through the still open hatch, laced through with a growing concern for each moment she took to gather the strength to shake her head.

He sighed heavily at the sight, turning away to glance back up the way he’d come with a reproachful look, no doubt feeling awful about leaving her down here.  His smile was guilty and pained as he turned it back to her, full of a thousand apologies she’d long since grown to be fond of.  Always so considerate and remorseful, Jem was the not type Tessa could ever withhold her forgiveness from.

“It’s alright, really,” she managed to say, the words sticking like week-old honey to her dry throat.  Offering him a shy smile in return, Tessa brushed the crumbs haphazardly off her ruined dress and handed him back the empty flask.

Jem looked hesitant.  “Do you need anything else?  More water?  Food? The kitchens surely won’t miss it, what with having so much of it in store after the last raid and all—” He cut himself off, giving her another guilty look, complete with an involuntary wince.  “Sorry,” he tried, not looking at her.

“I told you it’s fine, Jem.  I’m fine.  Haven’t you got a job to get back to?  Being first mate doesn’t come with plenty of free time to doddle around with the prisoner, now does it?”  This was another thing she had come to appreciate about Jem; he would often speak to her of the world above deck, of what it was like being a pirate on one of the most revered vessels in all the seven seas, of his duties and the other crewmembers who spent their days joking away while all the while upholding their status as the finest— albeit illegal — crew to sail the seas in the last fifty years.  She felt almost like a heroine from one of her novels this way, hearing the stories unfolding above her while living her own below.  Not only that, but she’d even found herself the handsome prince to swoop her off her feet like the knight in shining armor she’d always dreamed of meeting.  She did find herself growing rather fond of him, after all, and certainly wouldn’t mind being whisked away to live her happily ever after out at his side.

“No,” Jem admitted with a sigh.  “I suppose it doesn’t. I’d best be off.”  Pausing for a moment to give her a contemplative look, the argentous boy crouched across form her in the small cabin, then leaned forward to brush an affectionate hand over her burning cheek.  “I’ll be back by high sun, if I can,” he whispered, pressing a light kiss to that same cheek before moving away from her to head back up the ladder and through the hatch he’d come from.  Tessa watched him go with a fierce blush and giddy smile, her heart fluttering victoriously in her chest as the light spilling into the cell died off.  Still, somehow the darkness didn’t seem so terrifying anymore, for Jem would surely protect her from anything that might wish her harm.

After all, that was what the fairytale princes always did in her novels.


End file.
